Circumstances
by CharlieCaller
Summary: Complete Story: How will Scott react when he finds out his dreams are coming true? The worst is yet to come - what will he do when he dreams a grave fate for one of his brothers?
1. Mail Call

Disclaimer: I have used the characters of Thunderbirds and related companies in this story; I do not own them and I am making no money from their use. I also do not own the most excellent computer game 'Arx Fatalis' which was referred to in this story.  
  
A/N: Hi, remember me, I took a holiday from writing to concentrate on my exams, and I am back! (Hopefully with a vengeance.) I want to thank Rain for beta-reading this, she has helped me improve my writing so much (I hope it shows) and she probably helped me get my B in English A Level. (Now if only she could get my Media Studies and Sports Studies grades up...) Rain - thanks again!  
  
This is a complete story - I won't stop halfway through (mentioning no names, End Of The Rails) but so as I don't throw a huge chunk of writing at you I'll put one chapter up per day. I'm done now - enjoy!  
  
Title: Circumstances  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter One: Mail Call  
  
~~  
  
'Mail!' Gordon called into the Tracy lounge. He stood leaning casually on the white rail of the balcony staring at the early morning sunrise as the wheels of the mailman's plane touched down lightly on the grey cement runway. The blond pilot, who had no idea of what extraordinary vehicle had landed and taken off many times on that runway, hopped out of the cockpit, lugging the large sack of mail over his broad shoulder.  
  
'Dad, I think he's got something to be signed for,' Gordon said, eyeing the mailman's clipboard as he struggled up the steps to the luxurious villa with his well-used brown sack of mail bulging.  
  
Jeff Tracy nodded, and calmly pressed the button at the side of his desk to signal 'Operation Cover-Up.' More casual paintings slid over those of his five sons in their uniforms, concealing their identities as members of International Rescue. The young postmaster was shown into the spacious living room some moments later by Kyrano, Jeff Tracy's gracious manservant and faithful friend, who bowed as he left.  
  
'Is there a Mrs Tracy present?' The mailman said in a strong Australian accent, glancing momentarily at the name written on the clipboard.  
  
'I'll get Grandma,' Gordon volunteered, walking towards the kitchen to tell her.  
  
'What's to be signed for?' Jeff said as he was handed the other letters. Browsing through them, he saw a few letters regarding his business, a couple of bills, a postcard from Lady Penelope giving details of her weekend vacation in Nice, and one other letter for Gordon.  
  
'A package,' the young man said, emptying the contents of the sack to reveal the slightly battered brown cardboard box with several stickers fixed onto it. 'Dunno what's in it,' he added, shrugging.  
  
Grandma arrived in the room, drying her hands on the cotton apron she wore. 'Ma'am,' the mailman said, addressing her politely as he passed her the clipboard, 'could you please sign for this?' He began to dig in the pockets of his navy blue shorts for a writing implement, which he found and offered to her.  
  
Grandma took the pen and signed her name quickly on the paper. The mailman then tipped his hat courteously, wished the household a good day, and was shown out to continue his rounds.  
  
'Come on, Grandma,' said an eager Alan, who had followed her from the kitchen to see what the excitement was about, 'Open it!'  
  
'I wonder what it could be,' Grandma said, cutting through the brown tape with a sharp, shiny knife. The metal of the blade glinted in the sunlight that now streamed through the sliding door, shining in Scott's eyes as he watched from the side of the room.  
  
'Oh my goodness,' Grandma gasped as she rifled through the pieces of polystyrene to produce the object. Scott could not see it properly, though, for the glint of the shiny blade was still obscuring his vision. He squinted his eyes shut, trying to block the light from his eyes, but still it persisted.  
  
~~  
  
The sunlight shone through the crack in the curtains, filtering through Scott's eyelids and drawing him from his sleep. He groaned and grumbled before rolling over, twisting and turning in his sheets. It was no good, though, he was just about awake and sleep was no longer an option.  
  
He cracked his eyes open and looked at the green glowing numbers against the black background of his digital clock. Eight already, he thought to himself. He finally summoned the energy to get out of his warm, comfortable bed and have a cool shower to kick-start his day.  
  
Once fully awake and alert, he began to get dressed. As he put on his socks, he could have sworn he heard a plane fly close to or even directly over the island, but he thought nothing of it. It could have been Kyrano or Grandma going to the mainland to do some shopping, or something along those lines.  
  
His suspicions were aroused when he found, on walking into the large kitchen, that not a soul was to be found. Usually, there would be one or more of his brothers fighting over the toast, but not even his father could be found enjoying his morning cup of coffee and newspaper, as was his daily ritual. Frowning, and grabbing a slice of toast as he left, he decided to search through the rest of the house.  
  
He soon found everyone assembled in the living room, chatting away excitedly to one another. Standing in the doorway for a moment, chewing on his toast, he wondered what he had missed. Virgil noticed and came over to enlighten him of the goings-on.  
  
'You missed out on all the excitement,' he said over the hubbub, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
'What excitement?' Scott said, wiping a stray butter-covered crumb away from the side of his mouth as he glanced over the crowd in the room.  
  
'A package in the mail for Grandma, that's what. It turns out she entered a competition in one of her magazines and won the newest model of sewing machine available in the world.'  
  
Scott's eyes widened and his jaw dropped to the floor, revealing half- chewed toast. It couldn't be; there had to be some other explanation. He pinched himself, hoping that he was still asleep, but all he received was a sharp twinge of pain and a red mark on his arm. Even after this, he refused to believe that he had just dreamed something, and then found out that it had really happened.  
  
Concluding that he needed an early night sometime soon, he walked over to the group and joined in congratulating his Grandmother.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
'I wonder why she never told anyone,' Alan said slowly, pressing his lips together as though in deep thought. It was not long after breakfast, and the two youngest Tracy brothers were sitting by the pool, soaking up the morning sun. 'I mean, I would have done. Told someone that is.'  
  
'What are you talking about?' Gordon said with slight exasperation at disturbing his reading.  
  
'I said, I wonder why she never told anyone,' Alan repeated.  
  
'Why who never told anyone what?' Gordon said, his irritation and exasperation now very clear in his voice.  
  
'Why Grandma never told anyone that she entered that competition,' Alan said, rolling his eyes at his older brother.  
  
Gordon sighed, now fractious, and took a moment to look up from his book. 'Is that it? Is that all that's taking up your few and far-between brain cells at the moment?' Feeling that he should have got through to Alan by then, he returned to the paragraph that he had read three times since his brother began disturbing him.  
  
Alan scowled, and then grinned wickedly. He got up from his garden chair, shed his sandals and performed a running cannonball into the nearby pool. A large wave of cool splash showered over Gordon and his book.  
  
Angered at being drenched, Gordon watched for Alan to surface before throwing the sopping novel to the floor and jumping to his feet. 'Alan!' he exclaimed. 'What the hell did you do that for?'  
  
The youngest Tracy attempted to smother a smile, and failed. 'I figured you needed cooling off,' he said innocently, half shrugging his shoulders.  
  
Scott, having overheard the ruckus, walked down the steps to the poolside to investigate. 'What's going on?' he asked, glancing sideways at the livid Gordon.  
  
The redhead abandoned his book and stormed past Scott towards the house, liable to blow up should anyone be unfortunate to run into him before he made it to his bedroom. Staring for a moment at the trail of water left by his dripping wet brother, Scott turned to the blond in the pool. 'What did you do to him?'  
  
Alan held his hands up in defence whilst treading water, attempting his best look of pure innocence as he said, 'Nothing! He just blew up at me!'  
  
Scott had worked out most of the details from the evidence presented to him. 'You got him wet, didn't you? Judging from that,' he gestured to the amount of water running over the paving slabs, 'you must have done a cannonball.'  
  
'He needed to cool off,' Alan said lightly, thinking this was the best, and most truthful reason.  
  
Scott grinned. 'Alan, when will you learn? Never soak someone, particularly someone who is not in a good mood to start off with, and then tell them that they needed to cool off.' He picked up Gordon's recently discarded book, set it in the sun to dry, and sat down in a different, dryer chair to absorb himself in a magazine.  
  
Alan paddled to the edge of the pool and rested his arms on the side. 'Do you know why Grandma never told anyone about entering the competition?'  
  
Scott had been wondering the same thing. 'Maybe she didn't want to get our hopes up. I mean, with thousands of entries, the odds weren't exactly great. She mentioned that she had even forgot about entering, which was why she was so surprised this morning to receive a package in the mail.'  
  
'You mean she never told anyone?' Alan said incredulously, knowing that he would have informed the entire island should he have entered a contest of any sort.  
  
'No one,' Scott said, confirming it. As he finished speaking, the klaxon sounded around them, signalling an emergency call. 'Come on,' Scott said, throwing a towel to Alan as he hoisted himself out of the pool. 'Duty calls.'  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Gordon sat alone in his room, re-reading the letter he had received in the mail that morning. He threw it down in anger as he got up off of his bed and rested his hands on the windowsill. He stared out at the ocean, its serenity calming him. Thoughts were running through his head so fast that everything blurred into nothingness, and emptiness.  
  
'Hey, Gordon!' Virgil said in a chirpy voice as the door to his room began to slide open. Gordon instantly dived for the letter and shoved it hurriedly into his pocket as his brother walked in.  
  
'Yeah?' Gordon said quickly, hoping that Virgil had not noticed anything suspicious.  
  
'Didn't you hear? There's an emergency, and you're invited,' Virgil said, leaving the room so that he could begin the launch sequence for Thunderbird Two.  
  
Gordon sighed as the door closed. 'Duty calls, I guess,' he thought, shrugging indifferently. He stuffed the letter back in the envelope, shut it in his desk drawer, and hurried to join the others.  
  
~~  
  
'What have we got?' Gordon said, joining Alan and Virgil in the cockpit of the huge green machine and taking a seat on the shiny red leather bench.  
  
'An earthquake in Japan,' Virgil said, watching as the dot of Scott's Thunderbird became smaller and smaller in front of him. 'During the middle of their night, so its going to be dark there. There's a youth hostel with several kids trapped inside it that we have to help.'  
  
'Any other rescues?'  
  
'The emergency services have it all pretty under control at the moment, but we're on standby in case we're needed,' Alan said.  
  
Gordon nodded, strapping on his seat belt. Knowing that there would probably be a gruelling task ahead of International Rescue, he decided that thirty minutes sleep would not hurt, so he leaned back and closed his eyes.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	2. Rescue In Osaka

Chapter Two: Rescue in Osaka  
  
~~  
  
Scott arrived at the damaged area and surveyed it. The dark destruction over the usually bubbly city of Osaka looked dormant, for the time being. He struggled to find a place to land amongst the debris, but was soon on the ground and looking for the person in charge, or at least anyone who could speak English.  
  
'Hello,' a short, lithe Japanese man said. His black hair was dishevelled, and he had dark patches of black powder covering his face, suggesting that he had been close to the action. 'My name is Ai Akio. Thank you very much for coming to help.'  
  
'Our pleasure, Akio,' Scott said in the contrasting American accent. 'More people will be along soon to help. For now, could I have a couple of people to help move some equipment? I need to set up Mobile Control before we begin.'  
  
'Most certainly.' The man began barking orders in Japanese to fellow emergency services personnel, who quickly moved to help Scott.  
  
Once Mobile Control was set up, Scott began to establish contact with Thunderbird Two, to ascertain a time frame for the rescue. 'Thunderbird Two from Mobile Control, what's your ETA?'  
  
'Sixteen minutes, Scott,' Virgil said after a pause, looking at the appropriate device to verify this. 'I take it you've got everything set up. What does it look like down there?'  
  
'Not great, but the emergency services are doing well. I've been informed that the fire department need to shift the rubble in order to tackle the fire, but they don't have the equipment to do that.'  
  
'The Firefly should be the best vehicle for that,' Virgil said knowingly.  
  
'Once Virgil's done that, Gordon and I can go in and get the kids out,' said Alan, showing that he wanted some say in the plan.  
  
'Right,' Scott said, agreeing. 'Gordon, Alan, wear your fireproof gear in there, it could still be hot, even after Virgil's dealt with it.'  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Virgil finally found a place to land, at the edge of Osaka airport, five hundred yards from where Scott had set up Mobile Control. Whilst Gordon and Alan changed into their fireproof clothing, Virgil immediately started work in the Firefly.  
  
Scott established communications with Virgil. 'How's it going?'  
  
'Not so bad,' Virgil said, his voice faint over the rumbling and crackling noises of the fire. He manoeuvred the vehicle to one side of the room and began to attack another part of the blaze. 'This place doesn't look too stable, though. Where should the kids be?'  
  
'In the back room, apparently,' Scott said, referring to the blueprints given to him by Akio.  
  
'All right,' Virgil said, happy with the now smouldering pile of remnants in the corner of the main room. 'Another five minutes, and I should be done.'  
  
'Keep at it,' Scott encouraged. He left the microphone and turned to see two white figures hurrying towards him. Alan and Gordon were dressed in their protective clothing and ready to act.  
  
'How long?' Alan said, panting slightly due to the sprint from Thunderbird Two to Mobile Control in the heavy clothing.  
  
'Not long now, a couple or three minutes,' Scott said, glimpsing at the disintegrating building to his right. 'Listen, you two, Virgil says the place doesn't look too stable in there. You both be careful, okay?'  
  
Alan understood. 'We'll be fine,' he said reassuringly.  
  
About a minute later, the three brothers, plus dozens of onlookers, saw the Firefly back out of the destructed building. 'Mobile Control from Firefly,' Virgil said. 'All clear, you can send them in now.'  
  
Gordon and Alan headed hastily towards the building and disappeared into the smoke. Inside, it was dark, and everything was covered with dust. Using powerful torches, they searched the area, keeping their eyes peeled and their ears open.  
  
'This way,' Alan said, directing Gordon towards the back of the area. 'I think I heard something.'  
  
They arrived at a large, smoke-streaked white door. There appeared to be part of a finger-painting on the front of it, partly burned away. It showed a blue sky with a warm yellow sun melted into it. There looked to be green for grass, but nothing else was visible, save the brown burn marks framing the bottom part of the paper. Alan looked at it sadly, remembering pictures like the one before him that were put on the refrigerator at their childhood home, and were treated by their father as though Picasso had painted them.  
  
'Hello?' Alan called loudly through the door. Muffled, high-pitched screaming voices were emitted from inside, indicating that there was life within.  
  
Wasting no time, and without prior warning, Gordon used the combination of strength, power and anger, took two steps back and ran shoulder-first towards the door. The powerful slam took the door right off of its hinges and fell through, with Gordon still on top of it.  
  
Alan stared in awe and amazement for a moment, and then stepped through the door as Gordon was getting up, refraining from asking about the feat, but instead concentrating on the task at hand. He found eight terrified children huddled together on the floor in the corner of the room. He took two of them and hurried out of the building. Gordon followed suit and did the same.  
  
~~  
  
Meanwhile, Virgil had just left the Firefly when he was almost knocked flying by a frenzied woman babbling at what seemed to be several hundred miles per hour in Japanese. 'English?' Virgil asked, not understanding a word the woman was saying.  
  
She continued to speak speedily in the same language, before grasping his arm and dragging him over to a man that could translate. After a few moments of listening to the young woman, the translator turned to Virgil and said, 'Her son is stuck and needs help. Can you get him?'  
  
Virgil nodded, saying, 'Show me where.'  
  
~~  
  
Scott waited anxiously outside the decrepit building, pacing the ground to relieve some stress. Finally, he saw Alan appear with a bundle of children. He reached Scott and carefully let them down to the ground. Akio began to make sure that the children were all right.  
  
'How many more?' Scott said, brushing a large clod of dusty dirt off of Alan's white clothing.  
  
'Four, once Gordon comes out,' Alan said, running back towards the building.  
  
Gordon soon appeared with two children, carrying them both with one arm. Scott looked concerned, but his brother did not stop to talk, he hastened back towards the ever-crumbling building.  
  
'Another after-shock and...' Scott trailed off, not daring to think of the consequences.  
  
Alan returned with two more youngsters a minute later, this time more apprehensive than the first. 'He's not breathing!' Once Alan was far enough away from the building, he let one child crawl away to be with her friends, whilst he laid the other, a boy of about six years old, on the floor and began CPR. Scott ran over to assist with the chest compressions.  
  
After a few tense minutes, Scott said, 'There, you've done it.' The boy's chest rose up and down jaggedly as he coughed and spluttered from the smoke he had inhaled.  
  
'Phew,' said Alan, suddenly feeling exhausted.  
  
Akio hurried towards them. 'Thank you,' he said earnestly, shaking Alan's hand.  
  
Scott stood up, brushed the dirt off of his trousers and took a look around the site. As something suddenly occurred to him, he said, 'Hey, has anyone seen Virgil lately?'  
  
Alan joined him, staring around the area, and suddenly exclaimed, 'Look!'  
  
There, in a large willow tree not fifty metres from where the two aghast brothers stood, was Virgil, having just coaxed a five-year-old boy towards him. Virgil finally got the boy to him, and put him on his shoulders. He struggled to climb down the tree, but soon reunited the child with his fretful mother.  
  
Virgil, the hero of the moment, shook willow seeds out of his hair as he walked back over to Mobile Control. 'What?' He said, seeing the two amused faces.  
  
'What was that?' Scott asked in disbelief, gesturing over to the tree that Virgil had recently climbed down from.  
  
'The poor kid was scared by the earthquake, so he did what every little boy would do and climbed a tree,' Virgil explained, shrugging. 'Come on, I couldn't just leave him up there, and hope he'd land on his feet. I had to get him down.'  
  
Scott nodded, appreciating that Virgil had done what he and the rest of his brothers would have done in the same situation; rescued him. He patted him on the back and said, 'You did the right thing.'  
  
Alan abruptly became concerned. 'Where's Gordon? He should have been out of there by now.'  
  
On cue, Gordon emerged from the building, carrying one child under his arm and giving the other a free piggyback ride. He looked as though he was struggling as he made it to the group and let the children to the floor.  
  
'Gordon, are you okay?' Scott asked. Blood was smeared on the inside of the clear plastic visor, and a wet red-brown coloured patch seeping through the white material covering his shoulder.  
  
'Gordon?' Alan repeated.  
  
Instead of answering, Gordon's eyes rolled back in his head and he began to crumple to the floor, saved only by Virgil's quick reflexes and outstretched arms.  
  
'Pardon me, but is he all right?' Akio said, nodding towards Gordon who hung lifelessly in Virgil's arms.  
  
Secretly, Scott's heart had leapt to his mouth when he saw Gordon collapse, but his concern was masked by humour and briskness. 'He's okay; he's just rusty at saving lives. If you'll excuse us, Akio, we'd better be getting back to base.'  
  
'Certainly, gentlemen. My most humble thanks to you for saving these children.'  
  
'Don't mention it,' Virgil said as he heaved his brother over his sturdy shoulder and took him to Thunderbird Two's sickbay.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	3. Heading Home

Chapter Three: Heading Home  
  
~~  
  
Scott had finished packing Mobile Control away by the time the sun rose. It was a breath-taking sight to see the glowing red rays of the sun peak over the horizon, flickering on the sea. But, Scott thought to himself, no good deed goes unpunished. The early morning light showed the full extent of the destruction, in all its glory. The city of Osaka had much to do to get back on its feet again.  
  
Scott headed over to Thunderbird Two before taking off, to check on things, namely his brother. Virgil and Alan were in the sickbay, tending to the still unconscious Gordon. 'How is he?' Scott said, leaning over the bed to see. He found that, with the suit removed, Gordon was in a worse state than they had at first thought, particularly his wounded arm.  
  
'Not as bad as it looks,' Virgil said reassuringly. 'Nothing broken, just badly bruised.' Virgil had removed Gordon's clothing from the waist upwards to get a better look at the abrasion. 'The cuts to the head are superficial, just some of falling debris that cut through the plastic, but nothing more than a Band-Aid needed for those.'  
  
'What about the shoulder?'  
  
'I'm glad you asked, Scott, because this has me puzzled. It's badly bruised and slightly burned, as you can tell, but look at where the wound is situated. It's on the side, not just the shoulder, but the top part of the arm as well, and I can't work out why. At first, I thought he could have fallen, but it would have needed to be spectacular to cause that much damage. Then I thought maybe a large piece of debris could have fallen and hit him on the shoulder, but the angle and extent of the damage don't add up. I just can't figure it out.'  
  
Alan shifted from one foot to the other nervously. He felt like a schoolboy standing outside the Headmaster's office, awaiting punishment for some childish prank. This was slightly different, though. He was not going to see his formidable Headmaster, Mr Henderson; he was going to talk to his brothers. And it was not he who was in trouble. Finally, he summoned the courage to speak. 'You won't like it,' he said, tapering off.  
  
Two brown haired heads snapped up, wondering what their baby brother was hiding. Scott asked, 'Won't like what?'  
  
'I know how he got that,' Alan said, gesturing to the bruised arm, 'If I'd have known what he was going to do...'  
  
~~  
  
'He did what?' Jeff Tracy thundered, not quite believing his ears. Jeff had heard correctly, of course, but he was in denial about it. It could have been a mistake, perhaps, or his brothers setting Scott up to the joke. Of course, Scott would never joke about something as serious as this.  
  
Scott tried to avoid those enraged eyes, and tried not to let that voice get to him. 'He, according to Alan, body slammed the door. Quite literally, shoulder-first, threw himself at it, and took it straight off its hinges.'  
  
Jeff was thoroughly lost for words. 'Why?'  
  
This question had also crossed Scott's mind. 'I don't know,' he said honestly, not knowing what else to say. 'It wasn't as if it was his last option, to break down the door like that. One of the kids said that it was working properly, and wasn't obstructed by anything, but they shut it because of the fire. Besides, you've always said to break doors down with you feet first, and then try with the shoulder.'  
  
Jeff nodded. 'Are you on your way home?'  
  
'I'm about to leave, Virgil and Alan are just clearing up at the moment.'  
  
'Good,' he said shortly. 'See you at home.'  
  
The conversation ended abruptly, and Scott sighed. He glanced out towards Osaka harbour and saw the blue-grey sea as the sun splattered its golden rays upon it. Scott always felt fascinated by the changing colours and moods of the sea, much like the mood ring he often found his Grandmother wearing. Some days, the sea would be a cool, calming turquoise, inviting to those who wished to paddle in it. In the evenings, the sea shimmers with royal gold and deep red colour, giving it a majestic quality. Some days, though, the sea would be an unforgiving grey, as though storm clouds loomed over the head of the great King Neptune. That was the shade of the sea on the day of Gordon's hydrofoil accident.  
  
Scott wandered over to Thunderbird Two, to see how Gordon was. Walking in, he found Gordon fumbling with his oxygen mask, employed as a precaution for smoke inhalation. 'Are you okay?'  
  
Scott helped Gordon remove the mask. 'Fine,' Gordon said, using his arms to move himself into a sitting position. He grimaced in pain when he put his weight on the injured arm. 'By the look on your face, I reckon you've just spoken to Dad.'  
  
Scott noticed how quickly his brother managed to adapt to a situation. There were no questions, no enquires as to where he was or how he got there. Scott suspected that the months of training with WASP had contributed to this attribute in his character. 'Hey, Gordo,' he said, taking the casual approach. 'Do you want to tell me what happened in there?'  
  
'What happened in where?' Gordon asked innocently, trying desperately to avoid the subject that he knew he was about to receive a lecture on.  
  
'The rescue, don't you remember?' Scott said, concerned that Gordon might have some form of amnesia. Seeing the bold look in Gordon's eyes, the eldest Tracy knew that Gordon was all too aware of what he was talking about.  
  
'Sure, I remember,' Gordon said lightly. 'Osaka, earthquake, youth hostel containing eight trapped kids, Virgil put out the fire, Alan and I went in, all kids are saved, and another job well done. How's that?'  
  
Scott was impressed at the account that seemed to roll effortlessly off of his tongue, except that it lacked one significant detail. 'You forgot your big finish; you passed out.'  
  
Gordon brushed away the factor with the hand of his good arm, like it was a pesky fly buzzing around his face. 'That's no big deal; probably just all the excitement getting too much for me.'  
  
Scott, begging to differ, said, 'I'd say not. You can't feel it so much now, because Virgil gave you a shot of painkiller, but I'd say you passed out from the pain, when you decided to use your shoulder as a battering ram and charge your way through that door.' Gordon remained silent, so Scott continued. 'Why did you do that?'  
  
Gordon sat for a moment, and then said, 'I guess I wanted to save time, instead of trying the handle to find it wouldn't work, so I just went straight for it and knocked it down. A sign of efficiency.'  
  
'It's not efficient when you end up breaking your arm,' Scott said scornfully.  
  
'Well, I didn't break my arm, did I,' Gordon said, like a schoolboy being cocky to his teacher.  
  
'You were lucky.'  
  
'Lucky? You think I'm lucky? If I'm so lucky, how come I'm getting a pre- Dad lecture from my older brother?' Gordon tried to fold his arms over his chest, but realised that this would cause him some pain and so settled for aiming a glare directly at his brother.  
  
'To show you the seriousness of what you did,' Scott said tersely.  
  
'All I did was break down a door!' Gordon cried, immediately regretting it as he was launched into another coughing fit.  
  
'Here,' said Scott, handing the oxygen mask back to him. 'Virgil and Alan are on their way back, so you'll be taking off soon,' he said shortly before he stood up and walked back to his own Thunderbird, wondering when his brother was going go grow up.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Jeff sat at his desk that night, reading the debrief reports that each of his four sons had written about their role in the rescue. He was very interested to see what these particular reports had to say. As always, he had found Scott's account to be neat and efficient, a reflection of the boy himself. He had been entertained at Virgil's tale of rescuing the young boy from the tree, which was penned in his son's creative, curly writing. Alan's, in his small and compact black ink, had described the event of Gordon launching himself at the door, as well as his successful attempt to resuscitate the young boy, something that Jeff had been proud to read. Gordon, in his ever-untidy scrawl, had omitted the cause of his injured shoulder.  
  
Jeff had not questioned his son directly about the incident, but had waited to see if he would admit it without prompting. He was disappointed to find that he had not.  
  
Reluctantly, Jeff was going to let it go. What Gordon had done was dangerous, showed poor judgement, and could have cost numerous lives, including Alan's and his own if the impact had caused the building to collapse. But, as Gordon was not going to say anything more about what happened, there was little more that his father could do except lecture him, which he knew that Scott would have already done. Of course, if Gordon made any other rash decisions in rescues, then Jeff would act. It was a tough call, but he would make it and live with the consequences.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	4. Dream On

Chapter Four: Dream On  
  
~~  
  
He felt as though he was floating on air as he walked into the sickbay, and that everything seemed to be slightly blurred around him, like he was looking through Clingfilm. It was a weird sensation, like déjà vu.  
  
He had expected to see Gordon there, having his injuries looked at by Tin- Tin after his earlier feat. But instead, when he got there, he found Alan lying in the bed closest to the window. His face was pale, and he moaned as he slept. As Scott approached the bed, Alan began to struggle in his sleep, and the moaning became loader.  
  
~~  
  
Scott opened his eyes quickly, shifting them, looking around the shadowy room to find out what had caused him to awaken. Seeing nothing in his dark room that appeared to be the cause, he decided to venture from his cosy bed into the cool darkness of the house. He had heard something; he was sure of it.  
  
As he tied his blue cotton robe around him, he remembered his dream, about Alan being in the sickroom. The dream had felt so real, so life-like. He was not sure, but his instincts told him to go towards Alan's room. He had a gut feeling, one that niggled and refused to leave him alone until he'd checked on Alan.  
  
He tiptoed down the dark corridor, with the beams of moonlight shining through the windows playing across the carpet. As he neared Alan's room, he heard another loud groan. He quickened his pace until he came to the door.  
  
Inside, he found his youngest brother to be in some kind of dreamless, restless sleep, tossing and turning wildly within his sheets. The quilt had been kicked to the floor. Scott hurried over, and put a hand to Alan's forehead, and found that it was burning hot.  
  
'Alan,' Scott said, gently shaking him awake by the shoulder. 'Alan, wake up!'  
  
Alan sat straight up, almost knocking Scott off of the bed. He was breathing sharply and rapidly, and his eyes were bloodshot. He stared at Scott, still rasping for breath.  
  
'Alan, you're in a bad way,' Scott said, beginning to untangle the sheets from around his brother's body. 'Come on, let's get you to the sickroom.'  
  
'What's wrong with me, Scott?' Alan said quietly, with a croaky throat. He felt panicked, as though he did not know where he was or what was going on, but Scott decided that this was probably due to the fever.  
  
'Well, at a guess, I'd say you've got a case of flu,' Scott said, helping Alan to his feet.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
'How are you, Alan?' Jeff said, perching on the edge of his son's bed in the sickroom. Gordon and Virgil had both just left, visiting their brother and receiving their inoculations at the same time. Scott was having his at that moment.  
  
'A bit better,' he said hoarsely, before adding, 'Thanks to Scott.'  
  
'Yes,' said Jeff, pondering this. One particular detail of the situation had been bothering him, and this had just reminded him what it was. 'Tell me, how did you find Alan last night, Scott?'  
  
Scott shrugged, receiving a harsh look from Tin-Tin, who was trying to vaccinate him against the flu. 'I woke up when I heard him, tossing and turning in his bed. I guess I just followed the noise.' He had not mentioned to anyone about the dream he had had, about Alan being ill, because he was sure that everyone would think was going mad.  
  
'Don't worry, son,' Jeff said to Alan. 'The medicine Brains has given you should soon take effect, and you'll be back on your feet in a week or two.'  
  
'Two weeks?' Alan whined pathetically.  
  
'I have another option. You can spend a few days getting over the initial stages, and then you can relieve John in Thunderbird Five a week early. How does that sound?'  
  
Alan liked this choice better, as he could rest but still play a part in rescue situations. 'I'll do that,' he said, knowing that it was the best option.  
  
'Good,' said Jeff brightly, alighting from the bed. 'For now, relax and get lots of rest. Grandma is preparing her famous chicken soup for you. She swears by it for curing colds and the flu.'  
  
Alan yawned, still smiling drowsily. 'That's great, Dad, but I think I'll take a nap first.' He rolled over and closed his eyes, letting slumber begin the healing process.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Scott sat on the soft sand, running the dry powder through his fingers slowly, thoughtfully. He was sat with his arms leaning on his knees, watching the tide creep in. Soon, he knew he would have to move, or risk getting his feet wet. He knew he could not spend much longer outside anyway, as the time was reaching five in the evening, and he would be required to help set up for dinner. Time nor tide waits for no man, he thought to himself.  
  
He heard someone padding towards him, struggling through one particularly unstable area of the beach. A figure sat beside him, watching Scott for a moment. 'A penny for your thoughts?' Virgil's deep voice said softly, not wishing to spoil the tranquil setting.  
  
Scott sighed, irritated at how well his brother knew him. But then, Virgil knew all his brothers well, and could tell exactly how they were feeling and what they were thinking. He opted to attempt to outsmart him. 'Well, I was just thinking, wondering how Alan got that flu. I mean, since none us have got it or had it for a long while. My only guess is that the young boy he performed CPR on had it, and so it was passed on that way.'  
  
'Like you say, no good deed goes unpunished,' Virgil said.  
  
'I say that?' Scott said, wondering if Virgil knew him better than he did.  
  
'You were going to,' Virgil said, and then added, 'I also know that you were not thinking about how Alan got the flu.'  
  
'How do you know?' Scott enquired sharply, immediately realising that he should have phrased the question better. Yes, his brother definitely knew him too well.  
  
'Because you weren't,' Virgil said simply.  
  
They sat in silence for a moment, Scott wondering what it would take to stop Virgil persisting. Remembering how stubborn his brother was, he gave in. 'You'd never believe me.'  
  
'Try me.'  
  
Scott took a moment to plan his approach. 'Do you remember, yesterday when Grandma won that sewing machine? How I was the last to come into the room?'  
  
'Yes, I do,' Virgil replied slowly, his thoughts drifting back to the previous day. 'I came over to fill you in on what was going on.'  
  
'Do you remember that I had a surprised look on my face when you told me?'  
  
Virgil sat for a moment, thinking hard and trying to recall this event. 'Now that you mention it, I kind of remember that. Was there any reason why?'  
  
Scott nodded, he too trying to evoke the memories. 'I had just woken up from a dream, and in this dream I dreamt that Grandma had won a sewing machine. I dreamed something, and it happened less than an hour later. Now how crazy does that sound?'  
  
'I don't think it sounds crazy,' Virgil said honestly. 'I mean, a lot of people can have premonitions, sometimes when they're asleep, sometimes not.'  
  
'There's more,' Scott said, removing his shoe to empty the sand that had collected inside it. 'I woke up when I heard Alan moaning in his sleep. The only reason I went straight to his room was because I had woken up from a dream about him being sick.'  
  
Virgil took some time to digest the information. 'Scott, I can't see that these, well, your premonitions are necessarily a bad thing. I mean, you can see what's going to happen before it actually happens.' He grinned, adding, 'Your birthday's not far off...'  
  
'Virgil, I hate this!' Scott snapped, taking a fistful of sand and throwing it angrily. 'It makes me feel like Alan getting sick is my fault, because it dreamed it before it happened.'  
  
'It's not your fault, though,' Virgil said calmly. 'That happened yesterday, probably when Alan gave CPR. It was going to happen any way, and you dreaming about it later couldn't have prevented it. Think about it, Scott. I know that you woke up from the noise he was making, but because of the dream, you went straight to Alan, decreased the time between him getting the flu and receiving treatment, and so reduced the severity of the illness. These premonitions give you like a preview of what may happen, and so you know what to expect. Do you see what I mean?'  
  
'I know, Virg, but I...' Scott trailed off, as he was not about to admit to his younger brother that he was scared, so he decided to rephrase his sentence. 'I just can't control it, and that's what I don't like.'  
  
'Hey, I know,' Virgil replied, knowing how Scott really felt. 'It might go away, you know. Leave it for now and see what happens, and if you have another one, tell me and we'll go to Brains and see what he has to say.'  
  
Scott agreed to the terms willingly, seeing them as both reasonable and fair. 'Okay then, I'll settle for that. One more premonition, and I'll take further action.'  
  
'Come on, our dinner will be getting cold, and you know what Grandma will have to say about that. That is something worth being frightened about.' Virgil, knowing that he had taken a risk in saying that, hastily got to his feet and ran towards the house.  
  
'Who said I was frightened about anything?' Scott said, getting up from the sand and chasing his brother up the beach.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	5. In The Dead Of Night

Chapter Five: In The Dead Of Night  
  
~~  
  
Two days later, everything was beginning to return to normal. Gordon had almost returned to his usual self, showing this by playing an elaborate practical joke on Virgil and his piano, earning Gordon a dip in the pool. Alan was recovering well from his flu, far quicker than expected, which he claimed was due to his Grandma's delicious chicken soup. He would be making the exchange with John in Thunderbird Five the next day, twenty-four hours earlier than expected. The best news of all, for Scott, was that he had received three wonderful nights of sleep, minus the forewarning dreams. But, for the unfortunate Scott, that was not going to last...  
  
~~  
  
Scott looked around him, and found he was in a dark, murky cave, and the lack of light made it difficult to see. As he tried to get his bearings, he heard rumbling around him, and felt the earth shake slightly. A few rocks began to fall around him, and he held his hands over his head.  
  
Once he was sure that the tremor had passed for the time being, Scott began to explore the area. The terrain was rocky, and unsteady underfoot, and Scott had to be careful not to lose his balance.  
  
'Hello?' Scott said loudly, wondering who would be found in such a place. It looked to be a domain for goblins, dwarves and trolls, like in a computer game he had played in his youth. Arx Fatalis, if he recalled correctly.  
  
Scott slipped slightly, and held out his arms to steady himself. On doing this, he noticed that he was clad in his blue International Rescue uniform. 'I guess I'm on a rescue,' Scott mumbled to himself.  
  
He continued to wander through the cavern, unsure of what he was destined to rescue. 'Is anyone there?' Scott said, this time with more volume. He regretted doing this when the cave began to shake, rattle and roll. Scott stepped precariously, hands back over his head.  
  
Once again, the quake passed, and Scott continued his journey. He hadn't gone ten paces when he saw a metallic glint out of the corner of his eye. Moving closer to inspect it, he found that it was one of International Rescue's hover-bikes, half-buried in the rocks.  
  
'Hey,' Scott said quietly to himself whilst inspecting the vehicle. 'If I didn't arrive here on that, it means there's got to be someone else down there.' He looked up sharply when he heard what he thought to be a faint cry coming from deeper in the cave. He continued on, this time faster.  
  
The gradient began to slope sharply, sending Scott skidding on his feet, and then his side when he fell to the ground. He rolled to the end of the slide, and luckily for him came to a stop about a foot away from a large drop into the unknown black below.  
  
He sat up, shaking his head and dislodging dust and dirt from his hair. He turned around to look back at where he had come from, to find a way to return, as this area was evidently a dead end. He turned back sharply when heard a sudden cry from behind him. 'Scott!'  
  
The oldest Tracy saw two hands clinging onto the side of the crumbling ledge. Peering over, he found that it was none other than his brother Gordon hanging onto it for dear life.  
  
'Help me, Scott,' Gordon said, a pleading look contained within his terrified eyes.  
  
Scott took one of Gordon's hands and began to pull. Seconds later, another forceful rock shower began. Put off by the falling rocks, Scott began to lose his grip on Gordon. 'Hold on,' Scott shouted above the clamour.  
  
One rock landed on Gordon's other hand, which caused it to lose grip from the ledge and fall limply at his side. His weight shifted dramatically, and it was too much for Scott; Gordon's hand slipped out of his own, and the red-haired Tracy began to fall into the black hole below.  
  
'Gordon!' Scott cried, agony filling his voice. 'No!'  
  
~  
  
'No!' Scott shot straight up in bed, panting, and coated in a thin film of perspiration. His heart pounded loudly inside his chest as he tried to get his breath back.  
  
'Gordon's in trouble,' he said to himself, struggling out of the sheets that were wrapped around him. He grabbed his robe and hurried down the hallway towards Gordon's bedroom.  
  
When he arrived, he found Gordon sleeping peacefully. Scott watched in the shadows for a moment. Gordon's auburn hair was tousled, partway across his eyes with one thick strand resting on the tip of his nose. He was lying flat on his back, with his arms open as though they were pinned down at the wrists. His sheet lay lightly across his front, gently rising and falling in time with his chest.  
  
Scott had seen enough to know that his brother was safe, for the moment, and so he turned to leave and return to his own bedroom. As he walked, his foot caught the corner of Gordon's bookcase, sending pain shooting from his right big toe through into the rest of his body. Fighting the urge to yell, he bit his bottom lip hard and closed his eyes, thinking of anything except for his stubbed toe. It was pointless keeping quiet, though, as Gordon had already woken up.  
  
'Scott? You had better have a good reason for waking me up. A really, really good reason,' Gordon said, using his balled fists to remove the sleep from his eyes.  
  
Scott approached the bed, desperately trying to think of an explanation.  
  
'Well?' Gordon said, prompting him.  
  
'I, err, well,' Scott fumbled. Telling Gordon what he had really come into his room for was out of the question, so he settled for, 'You owe me twenty- five dollars.'  
  
Gordon stared, open-mouthed, before asking, 'What did you say?'  
  
Scott cleared his throat and repeated, 'You owe me twenty-five dollars.'  
  
Gordon could not believe his ears. 'You woke me up at ten to four in the morning to tell me that? Couldn't it have waited?' Gordon's voice had risen in volume throughout his speech, and he was in danger of waking up the rest of the house. He didn't care though, if he had a rude awakening, it was only fair that everyone else should, as well.  
  
'Erm, yeah, sorry,' Scott said, now flustered. He headed hastily to the door. 'Good night!'  
  
Scott padded back to his room and into his bed. He could not sleep, though, as he was too wound up about the dream. He knew it had to be a premonition, as it had felt like the others, so real, almost like a trailer for what was to come later in real life. Although Gordon was not in danger when he had seen him a few minutes ago, it did not mean that it wouldn't happen. Determined to personally ensure that nothing happened to his little brother, he resolved to keep a hawk-like watch over him. With this decision in mind, Scott's eyes eventually closed and he was ready for another few hours of sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
At breakfast the next morning, Scott walked into the kitchen as Jeff was enjoying his morning cup of coffee and newspaper.  
  
'Morning, Scott,' Jeff said, taking a swig of his coffee as Scott buttered his toast.  
  
'Good morning,' Scott said in reply, taking a large bite out of the slice.  
  
'I hear you had an interesting night,' Jeff commented, not looking up from his paper.  
  
Scott inwardly groaned. Nothing stayed quiet in this family for long, he thought to himself.  
  
'The funny thing was,' Jeff continued. 'Gordon tried to think of when he borrowed twenty-five dollars from you, or even why, and he couldn't remember.'  
  
Scott cursed under his breath before saying, 'Yeah, well, after waking him up last night, I've decided to apologise by calling off the debt.'  
  
'That's very gracious of you,' Jeff said, his eyes still fixed on the broadsheet. 'So, any special reason you decided to wake him up at that hour to tell him?'  
  
Scott had gone off his breakfast by that time. 'Not really,' he mumbled, finishing his toast in one mouthful and making a hasty exit from the kitchen. Jeff glanced up briefly, before shaking his head in amusement and returning to his newspaper.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	6. Thunderbirds Are Go!

Chapter 6: Thunderbirds Are Go!  
  
Scott had not let Gordon out of his sight the whole morning, becoming increasingly worried that something would happen to him. Luckily for Scott, the ever-nautical Tracy was content relaxing in the pool that morning, engaging in a game of volleyball with Virgil and Tin-Tin. Scott and Alan both sat by the poolside, each relaxing with a book.  
  
'We'll be off in a couple of hours,' Alan said suddenly, looking at his watch. 'I guess I'd better get packing.'  
  
'Off where?' Scott asked, taking a moment to look up from his book. 'Are you going to the mainland?'  
  
'No, I'm relieving John today, remember?'  
  
Scott had totally forgotten. 'I thought it was tomorrow.'  
  
'It was, originally,' Alan said, marking his place in his book. 'But I recovered quicker than expected, so Dad let me go a day early.'  
  
This news upset Scott's plan of keeping a watchful eye on Gordon, since he would have to spend four hours in Thunderbird Three during the exchange at Thunderbird Five. Well, he consoled himself; it would only be a few hours. Then again, he knew all too well that Gordon could find ways to get into a lot of trouble in a relatively short space of time.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Scott was in the lounge waiting for Alan to finish packing when Brains hurried in. 'Uh, Mr Tracy,' he said. 'W-would it b-be, ah, possible for, ah, me to accompany Alan on the j-j-journey to Thunderbird Five? You see, there is a, ah, new piece of equipment I would l-like to install.'  
  
Jeff, who was seated at his large desk, turned to Scott and asked, 'Do you mind not going, son?'  
  
'Mind?' Scott said, thinking it unnecessary to be asked this question. 'I don't mind at all. I mean, I just hitch a free ride into space, Brains can quite easily to do that, plus install his new equipment.' Besides, Scott thought to himself, I can keep an eye on Gordon now.  
  
'That's settled, then. Brains, launch will take place in about one hour, assuming you can get all of your equipment ready by then.'  
  
'Uh, y-yes, Mr Tracy,' Brains said reassuringly. 'Thank you, sir.'  
  
'It's not a problem. Remember, none of this would be possible without your expertise, and we need all the updates in hardware we can get, if it means more lives are saved.'  
  
Brains blushed and left quickly to prepare his apparatus.  
  
~~  
  
An hour later, Alan and Brains were both almost ready for the launch of Thunderbird Three. Whilst Alan quickly gathered a few containers of Grandma's home cooking, Brains explained what he aimed the new gadget to achieve.  
  
'It's not a n-new machine, m-more of an update. When receiving an emergency c-call, this update can pinpoint the s-source of the call faster and m-more accurately than the previous version.'  
  
'That would save a lot of time finding the exact location of the casualty,' Virgil said. 'Nice going, Brains.'  
  
The others in the room also put in their congratulations to Brains, before it was time for he and Alan to leave for Thunderbird Five.  
  
'See you in a month!' Alan said goodbye to the family before some minutes later, Thunderbird Three blasted off into space.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It was not two hours later that the eyes of John's portrait flashed, accompanied by the familiar beeping sound.  
  
'Go ahead, John,' Jeff said once the microphone disguised as a paperweight had risen from his desk.  
  
'A bomb has gone off in a shopping precinct in Milan, Italy. Everyone has been evacuated except for one shop, a hairdressing salon, where the fire is uncontrollable and spreading.'  
  
Jeff digested the information before saying, 'All right, Scott, away you go. John can fill you in on the way.'  
  
'FAB,' Scott said, leaving via the two silver light fixtures on one wall.  
  
'Alan and Brains left over an hour ago,' Jeff said to himself. 'We can't wait that long for them to come back. All right, Virgil, away you go.' As Virgil disappeared into the internal part of the island via the space rocket painting on the wall, Jeff turned to Gordon. 'You will be accompanying Virgil, but don't go yet,' he added, seeing Gordon about to exit the room to take the passenger lift. 'Tin-Tin?' Jeff called into the kitchen.  
  
'Yes, Mr Tracy?'  
  
'I would like, if it is all right with you and your father, to man Mobile Control on this rescue.'  
  
'Certainly, Mr Tracy,' she said, running to inform her father. Some seconds later, she returned to confirm that she would be going, and then left with Gordon.  
  
~~  
  
As Scott piloted his Thunderbird, he tried to sort through the thoughts and emotions about the dream, which were jumbled up inside him like toys thrown haphazardly into a toy box when your mother told to clean your room. He thought about how he could change one of the elements of his dream, which would hopefully in turn change the end result. He wondered whether perhaps if he himself was on Thunderbird Three and not at the rescue site, none of the other events leading to Gordon's possible, dare he think it, death would happen. But, on the other hand, he would much rather be present if anything did happen to Gordon, so he would be there to help him.  
  
The thought that he might be obsessing over the dream crossed Scott's mind, but he had seen the results of the last two premonitions and he was most certainly not going to take a chance with this one.  
  
'Thunderbird Two from Thunderbird One, what is your ETA?'  
  
'Thirty-one minutes,' Virgil said, before adding, 'Tin-Tin is with us, to man Mobile Control. Do you know the details of the rescue yet?'  
  
'I'm told the map reference of the site, The Lorenzo Porticato, is 492G,773L. There are twelve people trapped upstairs inside a large salon. The fire brigades are trying to stop the fire spreading to the neighbouring building, a café, but they aren't having much luck.'  
  
'What's the structure of the section like?' Tin-Tin said, imagining that the roof of the walkway, which would probably be glass, would be fairly high.  
  
'The arcade itself is a T-shape. The salon is on one corner, but the top end of the 'T' has been blocked off by debris. There is a gap, I'm told, which should hopefully be large enough to get the Firefly through. The walkways are under cover, and some debris from the roof is still falling, although the authorities are working to temporarily fix this.'  
  
'Understood, Scott. How long before you arrive?'  
  
'Seven minutes, so by the time you guys arrive, I should have Mobile Control set up.'  
  
'FAB Scott, see you soon.'  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	7. Tempers Rising

Chapter Seven: Tempers Rising  
  
Just under half an hour later, Virgil landed his Thunderbird in the deserted park opposite the shopping arcade. He quickly drove himself, Gordon and Tin-Tin over to Mobile Control in the Firefly, to meet with Scott and assess the current situation.  
  
'Okay, these are the three officials of the teams we'll be working with,' Scott said, commencing the introductions. 'This is Matteo Cavallo, of the fire brigade, Lucia Felleti, Captain of the local police department, and Ricardo Migliore, chief of the bomb squad. All three speak English, so we should have no problem with communication.'  
  
After a short discussion, a plan was formed. Scott went through the other side of the tunnel to assess the situation, and declared that it was now safe enough to take Mobile Control through to, as almost all of the roofing had been secured.  
  
'Damn, I left the suits back in Thunderbird Two,' Virgil cursed, remembering.  
  
'Tin-Tin, could you go back to Thunderbird Two and get the case containing the fireproof gear?' Scott said calmly, lifting one part of the mobile control console. 'We'll just be a second moving this, and then we can get this rescue started.'  
  
Tin-Tin nodded and ran over to the great green craft. Gordon and Virgil returned to carry another part of the equipment, and all three set off through the tunnel.  
  
Walking through the tunnel, the world around them felt as though it was rumbling. As the three dived for cover, instincts and the memories of the dream took Scott over, and he made an automatic leap for Gordon to shield him from falling rocks. Once the shower had subsided, Scott got off an indignant Gordon and looked around him. He gasped when he saw Virgil lying six or so feet from him, unmoving, with blood seeping through the fabric of one sleeve.  
  
'Virgil,' Scott said in almost a whisper, shaking his brother's shoulders slightly. 'If you can hear me, open your eyes.'  
  
Virgil did so, struggling for a moment before his eyelids slid back, revealing eyes filled with fear. 'Scott,' he said in a voice reflecting the pain he was in. 'My arm doesn't feel so great.'  
  
'Okay Virg, I know, just hold still and I'll see what's happened,' Scott said, feeling as though he was talking to a young child that had scraped his knee. He hated to hear Virgil, his rock, sound so vulnerable. On further inspection, Scott found that there was a large bloody gash, accompanied by a purple bruise, where some concrete must have struck it. 'Virgil, do you hurt anywhere else?'  
  
'My head, a bit,' he said, trying to manoeuvre himself into a sitting position.  
  
'Gordon, tell Tin-Tin what happened, and then go and get the medical kit from Thunderbird Two.'  
  
'I'm on it,' Gordon said, running speedily back through the tunnel.  
  
'Think you can walk?' Scott asked.  
  
'Yeah, just give me a couple of seconds for this place to stop spinning,' Virgil said jokingly.  
  
'You've probably got a concussion,' Scott said.  
  
'That wasn't exactly difficult to work out, Einstein,' Virgil said in a slow and irritated voice.  
  
~~  
  
'Don't fuss, Tin-Tin, I'm going to be fine,' Virgil said in an insistent voice. He felt much better since emerging from the tunnel, and had no desire to be fussed over once his arm was patched up. Besides, he had a fire to extinguish, and lives to save.  
  
'Well, as long as you're sure,' Tin-Tin said reluctantly. Although the arm was not broken, it had taken quite a beating, and was in a susceptible state should anything force it.  
  
'You okay, Virgil?' Scott said as he hurried over after just exiting the rock tunnel.  
  
'I'm fine,' he said firmly, wishing that everyone would stop asking him that question.  
  
'Good. Now, Ricardo has just assured me that there are no other bombs in the vicinity, and that the roof over the walkway has been secured, and so should now hold.'  
  
'Okay. Say, where's Gordon?' Virgil said, looking around in search for him. His question was answered as the Firefly rolled through the hole in the debris and towards the burning building, where it proceeded to tackle the blaze engulfing the salon. 'He's driving the Firefly?' Virgil asked wearily, hoping that he had got the wrong end of the stick. Under normal circumstances, he trusted Gordon with his life, but lately, circumstances had not been normal. It was ever since Grandma won that sewing machine...  
  
'Yes, he is,' Scott said, interrupting Virgil's thoughts. 'You certainly aren't, not with your arm strapped up, if that's what you were thinking. Don't worry, though, we'll be relaying instructions over the radio to him.'  
  
Virgil accepted this, feeling some security knowing that he would have some control over Gordon's actions. A few minutes after Gordon disappeared into the burning building, he decided to radio Gordon. 'Firefly from Mobile Control, how's it going?'  
  
'Not bad,' Gordon said, concentrating hard on working the vehicle he was not all that familiar with.  
  
'About fourteen or so people are trapped people are upstairs, so try to work around that area first,' Scott said, feeling the need to say something.  
  
'That's what I'm doing,' Gordon said in a singsong voice as he began to become irritated with his brothers constantly checking on him.  
  
'Scott, look!' Tin-Tin gasped, all heads turning to where her slightly shaking hand was pointing. 'The fire's spread to the café, already!'  
  
'Hey, Gordon, hurry and get to work on the left side of the building, the fire's just spread next door.'  
  
'But you just said...'  
  
'I know, I meant afterwards. Just be quick, anyway,' Scott said, feeling flustered. He realised what he had said, and he almost exclaimed out loud. Usually, Scott was the born leader, totally cool, calm and collected. At that moment, though, Scott felt that he had lost control over the situation, and it terrified him.  
  
'If you don't mind, Scott, I'd rather do a thorough job getting fourteen people out of this place alive than worry about an empty building,' Gordon said through gritted teeth.  
  
'Don't take that tone with me,' Scott snapped, angry at being talked to in that manner, even though he knew he deserved it. He watched as his control over what was going on slowly slipped away before him. He was mentally grasping for answers, a lifeline to get back in command in the situation, but they slipped through his fingers like the sand had done the day he had talked to Virgil.  
  
'I wouldn't have to if you'd stop bugging me every three seconds,' Gordon retorted. 'You've been doing it all day, watching me like a hawk! And before that, you decide to wake me up at some godforsaken hour over some twenty-five dollars, which I never lent you!'  
  
'Gordon,' Scott said, about to attempt to apologise and reconcile, but he was cut off.  
  
'What is it with you?' Gordon said angrily, not giving Scott the chance to answer. 'Can't you trust me enough to keep my head and look out for myself? You think I take everything thrown at me as a joke and laugh it off, and that I could never take anything seriously, even on a rescue. If you think that, then I guess you don't know me very well.'  
  
'Gordon, stop being immature and start concentrating on the rescue,' Scott said, almost growling into the microphone.  
  
'Sure, Scott, I'll do just that. By the way, I work better without the constant distractions from a big brother who doesn't trust me.' With that, the radio crackled for two seconds before suddenly going dead.  
  
'Gordon? Gordon, can you hear me? This is Mobile Control calling Firefly, do you read me?' Scott received no answer, and turned to Virgil and Tin- Tin, who had heard the entire episode, whether they wanted to or not. 'Well, how do you like that? He cut me off!' Both onlookers stood speechless. They had no idea what to say to Scott, and they would have had no idea what to say to Gordon.  
  
~~  
  
'This is Firefly calling Thunderbird Five,' Gordon said, praying that Thunderbird Three had not yet docked, or worse, left.  
  
'Firefly from Thunderbird Five,' John said, wondering if there was a problem with the rescue. 'Gordon? Shouldn't Virgil be driving?'  
  
'To cut a long story short, Virgil's arm is busted, so I'm driving,' Gordon said quickly. 'Listen, can you contact Mobile Control and tell them that the fire's out and that they can come in and get the people from the building whilst I start working on the café?'  
  
'Is there any reason you can't tell them yourself?' John said, wondering why the transmission would go via him and not directly to Mobile Control.  
  
'Well, to cut another long story short, Scott and I had an argument, so I cut him off.'  
  
'Okay,' John said slowly, not sure quite what to make of the goings-on down at the danger-zone. 'Look, I'll pass on the message, and then I'll want to talk to you some more, all right?'  
  
'Okay, Johnny, one more thing,' Gordon said hurriedly, almost stumbling over the words. 'How long before Alan arrives?'  
  
'At least another twenty minutes,' he said before explaining, 'they had to detour to avoid a weather satellite. Why?'  
  
'I don't want him and Brains to know,' Gordon said quietly, with a hint of meekness in his voice.  
  
'All right, I understand. Just give me two seconds, and I'll get back to you.' After flicking a couple of switches on the colourful control panel, John said, 'Mobile Control from Thunderbird Five, anyone there?'  
  
'Thunderbird Five from Mobile Control, Tin-Tin speaking.'  
  
'Oh, hey, Tin-Tin. Listen, Gordon's contacted me and he says you guys can go in and get the people out of the salon now, because he's put the fire out.'  
  
Scott overheard the conversation and said, 'Did he say anything else?'  
  
John thought hard for a moment, knowing that there was indeed something else, before he remembered and said, 'Oh yeah, he said he was going to start working on the café next door. John out.'  
  
After a moment, John reconnected with Gordon. 'All right, Squirt, what happened?'  
  
Gordon concentrated for a moment on manoeuvring into the café before explaining all that had happened that day, starting with Scott waking him early that morning, and finishing with what was said during the argument. 'So, after all that, I got the impression that he doesn't trust me or something, and I told him so and then cut the communications,' he said, finishing the story.  
  
John took in all that Gordon had told him, and thought hard about how to word his reply. 'Well, I wouldn't say he doesn't trust you, it's probably more likely that he's worried about you.'  
  
'That's just a polite way of saying he doesn't trust me,' Gordon mumbled dejectedly.  
  
'No, it's not. He's probably still scared that what happened to Virgil could easily happen to you, and he won't be there to save you this time. He's scared because he's got no control over you or what happens to you, and we both know what Scott's like when he's not in control,' John said, chuckling at memories of this. 'Of course, Scott would never admit to that, so you'll just have to take it from me.'  
  
'Yeah, there may be excuses for him, but I just don't need all this right now,' Gordon sighed, before perking up and announcing, 'There, the fire's out.'  
  
John could tell that something was troubling Gordon, something beyond the events of that day. 'What's on your mind, Gordo?'  
  
After a moment, Gordon said, 'I got a letter the other day.' He was about to continue when a rumbling noise took place around him, and the Firefly began to shake and shudder. 'Whoa!'  
  
John heard the loud noises along with Gordon's call, and desperately wishing he knew what was taking place, he shouted, 'Gordon!' Once the clamour had subsided, he tried again. 'Gordon! Answer me!'  
  
Acting with great speed, John contacted Mobile Control. 'Mobile Control from Thunderbird Five, what just happened down there?'  
  
'Thunderbird Five from Mobile Control, the ground here shook a little, and there was a loud noise, but I can't see anything, why?'  
  
'I was just talking to Gordon when I heard a rumbling and then Gordon yelled and sounded like he was hurt or something but he won't answer now,' John said in one breath.  
  
'Okay John, calm down,' Tin-Tin said reassuringly. 'Scott and Virgil will be out on the salon in a second, and as soon as they are I'll get them to see what happened to Gordon.'  
  
'Thanks, Tin-Tin,' John said, cutting the communications. 'I just hope he's okay.'  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	8. Missing In Action

Chapter Eight: Missing In Action  
  
~~  
  
Leonardo and Giovanni Pacelli crouched behind the counter of the flaming café, awaiting their demise. The two young brothers, one of twenty-three and the other just turned eighteen, had climbed through the back window of the café when the bomb went off just behind the salon. They were thrown to the ground and lay unconscious in the storeroom whilst the café was evacuated. They had woken up to find themselves trapped by the fire, and had thought that this day would be the end for both of them.  
  
'Come, Giovanni,' Leonardo said in Italian, his mother tongue. 'Let's grab the money anyway, just in case.'  
  
'In case of what, Leo? Face it, we haven't got a chance,' the younger brother said bitterly, wondering why he always let his brother talk him into such situations. 'You said everything would be fine, and now look!'  
  
'Who knew a bomb would go off when we tried to rob this place,' Leo said, shrugging imperturbably.  
  
'Leo, we're going to die! How can you be so light about this?' Giovanni said, disgusted at his brother's attitude.  
  
'I've got a feeling, Giovanni. We were put on this earth for something,' he said, ready to try and win over his brother with his smooth speech, as he so often did.  
  
'That's what Alfonso said before he was in that car crash,' Giovanni said, reminding them on their late brother. 'After that, Madre said for us to stay out of trouble. Why did I let you drag me into this?'  
  
'Like I said, I have a feeling. The Lord is saving us for something good, something special. I'm sure He wouldn't let us perish here, not now.' It was getting more and more difficult to persuade his maturing younger brother to go along with him, to make him believe that what he said was right.  
  
'He would, if He knew we were going to steal the money,' Giovanni said dryly, wondering if his brother even believed in the Lord, or if he just used it as a way to get to him. 'Alfonso would not have let us die here, he would have thought of a way out.'  
  
'Come on, sit on the floor behind the bar, the smoke is not so thick here,' Leo said, ignoring the previous comment. He had always tried to live up to his oldest brother, even after Alfonso's death.  
  
As Giovanni sat, a loud churning noise blended in with the roar and crackle of the fire. Jets of some kind of liquid flooded into the room, splashing both men.  
  
'What is that?' Giovanni asked in amazement, poking his head over the counter.  
  
'Get down,' Leo said, roughly pulling on his brother's shirt. The great yellow machine rolled past the bar and into the back rooms, tending to the fire in that area. 'We wait until it comes out, and then we leave,' he said, pointing towards the back rooms.  
  
As the machine returned, though, part of the disintegrating floor began to crack under the weight. The two brothers scrambled on top of the bar and watched in horror as the vehicle tumbled eight feet into the basement below.  
  
'Someone could be inside,' Leo said. He jumped deftly down into the chasm, inspecting the vehicle. Giovanni joined him, stumbling as he landed.  
  
Using his jacket to protect his hands from the heat, Leo opened the door to the Firefly, which was half on its side. The interior of the vehicle was a mess, with objects like tools scattered everywhere. Seeing the person inside, Leo jumped in and checked to see whether he had survived the crash.  
  
'Is he alive?' Giovanni asked quietly, watching from outside the vehicle.  
  
'He's okay, just a bump on the head,' Leo said, rolling him over onto his side. As he did, something caught his eye, causing him to grin wickedly. 'Hey, Giovanni, do you want to make some real money?'  
  
'How?' his brother asked suspiciously.  
  
'This man here is a member of International Rescue, and is a very important person. If we take him and 'look after' him for a few days, we'll earn a lot of money. Come on, help me lift him out of here.'  
  
~~  
  
Scott and Virgil exited the building, escorting the last of the victims out and trying to reassure them in their broken Italian. Walking back over to Mobile Control, Virgil said, 'We could have used Alan here, considering he's fluent in Italian.'  
  
'Scott, Virgil,' Tin-Tin said as she saw them approaching. 'John just called and said he was talking to Gordon when there was some kind of rumbling noise a couple of minutes ago. He lost contact and can't regain it. He also said that Gordon called out like he was in pain just before communications broke.'  
  
Flashbacks of his dream flew before Scott's eyes, and his instinct instantly told him that something was very wrong. 'Come on,' he said, running towards the café with Virgil three paces behind him.  
  
'What do you suspect, Scott?' Virgil called as they ran into the building, its walls stained with black smoke.  
  
Once inside, Scott trod carefully, listening intently for any noise. 'I never told you this, even though I said I would, but I had another 'premonition' last night, with the grand finale being Gordon's fall into a huge pit.'  
  
Virgil now understood. 'I can see now, it all adds up, like you jumping on Gordon during the rock shower, and your weird behaviour today.'  
  
'My weird behaviour?' Scott said, slightly offended.  
  
Virgil would have elaborated had he not seen the heart-rending sight before him. Inside a massive crater lay the smoking Firefly, on its side, covered in dirt and dust and looking shocking.  
  
Scott saw Virgil standing stock-still and visibly paling. He then realised what his brother had seen, and too turned a shade whiter. 'Stay here,' he commanded, advancing towards the machine.  
  
He jumped into the hollow and opened the now cooler outer door with a shaky hand. His mouth opened wide after he found that Gordon was nowhere to be found.  
  
'Scott, what is it? Is he all right?' Virgil said anxiously. Although the machine looked relatively unharmed from the outside, apart from the smashed screen at the front, there was no telling of the extent of the damage inside.  
  
'He's not here,' Scott mumbled, unable to comprehend it.  
  
'What?'  
  
'He's not in here,' Scott said in a louder voice, stepping through the scattered objects and poking around the small cabin just to be sure.  
  
'Not in there? How could he be not in there?' Virgil said, his voice tense. 'Where else could he be?'  
  
'Look around the café,' Scott said, climbing out of the Firefly. 'He can't have gone far.'  
  
Virgil began to search the coffee shop frantically. 'Gordon!' he called out, hoping and praying for an answer. An idea came to him, and he tapped his wrist communicator. 'Gordon from Virgil; come in Gordon.'  
  
'That won't be of any help,' Scott said gravely, holding up Gordon's communicator, which he had found next to the door to the Firefly.  
  
'Oh God,' Virgil said to himself.  
  
'We'll find him, I promise,' Scott said firmly, reassuring himself as much as Virgil.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	9. Tough Calls

Chapter Nine: Tough Calls  
  
~~  
  
'Any news, Scott?' Jeff said an hour later. Base had been informed of the situation, as had those on Thunderbird Five.  
  
'Nothing, Father,' Scott said solemnly. Making the call to his father about Gordon's disappearance had been the toughest thing he had had to do since International Rescue had begun. It was difficult to watch his father's face go from pink to white in five seconds.  
  
'Do the authorities know?'  
  
'Captain Lucia Felleti, of the local police department, has a team of officers searching now. The media doesn't know; they've been told that the police are looking for clues regarding the bomb.'  
  
'Good,' Jeff said, knowing that the last thing he needed was the media finding out that a member of International Rescue was missing. 'Keep trying, Scott, and call me to keep us updated.'  
  
'FAB, Father,' Scott said, ending the transmission.  
  
Jeff sat alone at his desk, looking at the portrait of Gordon hanging in the line with the rest of the five brothers. What if he never got to see that face again, the wicked gleam in those soft grey eyes, or that cheeky smile? He couldn't bear to think about it.  
  
Kyrano shuffled into the room, bringing a tray containing coffee and sweet biscuits. He set the tray down and asked, 'Any news, Mr Tracy?'  
  
Jeff sighed and shook his head, wishing his answer were different. 'None yet, Kyrano,' he said, picking up the spoon in the sugar bowl with a noticeably shaky hand.  
  
'Well, Mr Tracy, it is said that no news is good news,' he said, trying to be positive for the sake of those around him.  
  
Jeff nodded, managing a slight smile as he said, 'Indeed they do, Kyrano, indeed they do. How's mother?'  
  
'Mrs Tracy has retired to her bed, and has taken something to help her sleep,' Kyrano said.  
  
'Good,' Jeff said, thinking that he would probably need to do the same thing, if Gordon was not found by the evening. 'John and Brains are due to be home in two hours, so if you could...'  
  
'I will prepare something for them to eat when they arrive,' Kyrano said, reading his master's mind. He bowed again and then left for the kitchen.  
  
Jeff doubted very much if the family would be able to stomach anything at that moment, but it was a kind thought all the same. The chief of International Rescue decided that he needed a plan if Gordon was not found within the next hour, and so set to work creating one, praying that it would not be required.  
  
~~  
  
Gordon woke up bound and gagged in a dark corner of an even darker room, he tried to move his arms, but found that they were tied to the back of a wooden chair. 'How cliché,' he mumbled under his gag.  
  
He tried to remember how he got there. He recalled talking to John when the ground under the Firefly broke up and he and the vehicle tumbled into the basement. Before he blacked out, he remembered himself and several tools thrown about the Firefly like peppercorns inside a peppershaker, which provided the explanation for the splitting headache. If he ever made it out of wherever he was alive, Gordon resolved to start a campaign for seatbelts to be worn in all vehicles.  
  
This raised an interesting question: How did he get from being unconscious in the Firefly to being tied up in a dark room in God-knows-where?  
  
He looked around the space, looking for something, anything, to help him out of his predicament. He felt about his wrists for his communicator, and was dismayed to find that it was not there, making the task of being found all the more difficult. He next thoughts turned to freeing himself from the ropes securing his wrists.  
  
His eyes detected a brick ledge about four feet away from him, and at about the level of his hands. He looked down at his feet and found that they were tied together, but not tied to the chair. Careful not to overbalance, or make any noise, he lifted himself to his feet and took tiny jumps towards the ledge. Once positioned correctly, he began moving his bound hands back and forth as much as the bindings would allow, and let the rough wall slowly eat at the ropes.  
  
As he did so, he heard two angry voices outside the door, arguing in what he guessed to be Italian. Not understanding one word of the language, he tried to work out what was occurring from the tones of their voices. The more the enraged voices shouted, the more ill at ease Gordon felt.  
  
~~  
  
If it had been up to him, Scott thought to himself as he reluctantly packed away Mobile Control, they would have gone on through the night, and for days and nights after that, until they found Gordon. But, it was not up to him. If his father wanted them home, then home they would go.  
  
'Thank you for your kind help,' Scott said, shaking Lucia's hand earnestly.  
  
'No trouble, sir,' she said in English, with her strong Italian accent, adding 'I am very sorry we did not find your friend.'  
  
'Don't worry; we'll see to that, Scott said, trying to assure himself as well as Lucia.  
  
Tin-Tin and Virgil walked over to him as Lucia left, both looking tired and forlorn. 'Are you sure we can't keep going, Scott?' Virgil said, ready to get down on his knees and beg to persuade him to continue.  
  
Scott shook his head, he too wishing they could. It just didn't seem right to leave the danger zone without spending as long as humanly possible trying to find Gordon, like he was abandoning him. 'Dad's orders,' he said shortly.  
  
'So that's it? We're just supposed to give in and hope that he turns up somewhere?' Virgil asked, disbelieving that any member of his family would throw in the towel so quickly.  
  
'Virgil, we're not giving up,' Scott said decisively. 'We're just not doing anyone any good out here if we're running on empty. We need to go home, eat, sleep, and plan how we're going to get him back.'  
  
'Do you think Mr Tracy has a plan?' Tin-Tin asked.  
  
'If I know my Dad, he'll have at least two,' Scott said with certainty, 'Come on, let's get back to Base.'  
  
~~  
  
John had left Thunderbird Five with the knowledge that Gordon was missing, and from the few messages he had received whilst taking Thunderbird Three home, he could tell that things had not improved. Brains had spent the entire journey scratching notes on pieces of paper, his brow furrowed throughout.  
  
To John's surprise, his father had suggested that Alan remain on Thunderbird Five, despite the fact that Gordon was missing, so that if any news came through Alan would be there to hear it. John had expected the youngest brother to quarrel about this, and insist on returning home, but to John's absolute amazement, Alan agreed to stay. John could only guess that Alan wanted to be by himself during such a troubling time, rather than worry with everyone else.  
  
As soon as John landed Thunderbird Three under the Roundhouse, he went straight to his room, his refuge, as he wasn't ready to face anyone at that moment, least of all his father. John knew that feeling of avoiding his father all too well. He thought back to his childhood days when he would come home after school and go straight to his bedroom, to avoid the questions. How did you get that bruise? How did you cut your lip? Why are your eyes red? John would never answer the questions, but instead made up lame excuses. He felt so alone until one day he came home to find ten- year-old Gordon waiting in his room, refusing to budge from his bed until John talked to him about what was going on. Since that day when John opened up, he and Gordon held an unbreakable brotherly bond, being about to talk to each other about anything.  
  
A photograph of the two brothers caught John's eye, as it sat in its carved pine frame on the shelf next to several thick books on astronomy. The photo was taken three years previous, on holiday in the Canary Islands. The mid-length shot of the top showed the smiles after Gordon had taken John water-skiing. Although somewhat shaken, John had enjoyed every minute of it, shown by the genuine smile on his face, and the slight crinkles at the sides of his eyes. Gordon too had enjoyed driving the boat, giving his brother a taste of the element he loved so much.  
  
John would be lost without Gordon, in fact he was already lost without him, and he had only been missing for a few hours.  
  
John looked up when he heard the roar of Thunderbird One's engines as Scott returned home, and thought for a brief moment that they had found Gordon, only he knew in his heart that it was wishful thinking on his part. John sighed and curled up on his bed, before he closed his eyes and drifted into a restless sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	10. Answers

Chapter Ten: Answers  
  
~~  
  
Not long after Thunderbird Two returned to Base, Jeff called a meeting in the living room. Everyone was assembling when Tin-Tin walked in. 'Mr Tracy, John's asleep at the moment, would you like for me to wake him?'  
  
Jeff was about to nod when he changed his mind. He knew well of the special bond between John and Gordon, as he had seen it flourish over the years. He had an idea that although they were all desperately worried, John in particular was probably feeling the shock.  
  
'No, don't wake him,' he said. 'If he has anything to say, I'll talk to him later.' Jeff took a moment to compose himself before addressing those in the room. 'All right, we're here to discuss how it happened, and how we're going to find him,' he said, making use of euphemisms, as the subject itself needed no introduction.  
  
The group, in particular Scott, Virgil and Tin-Tin, began to deliberate the events leading up to the disappearance of Gordon.  
  
'So, you dived on top of Gordon, whilst Virgil came out with a slight concussion and an injured arm?' Jeff said, trying to clarify what had happened. Scott cringed, hating the way it sounded as though he had abandoned Virgil. 'Why Gordon, specifically?'  
  
Scott and Virgil threw each other uneasy glances; they alone knew the reason why. 'He was closest,' Scott said hastily, lying through his teeth. Jeff accepted this justification for the moment.  
  
'So, whilst Virgil received treatment, Gordon started work in the Firefly,' Scott said, trying to move proceedings on as quickly as possible. He continued to relay the story, until he remembered what it was leading to. 'I was talking to him over the communications when...'  
  
'When what?' Jeff said, slightly impatiently.  
  
'He cut the communications.'  
  
Jeff sat for a moment, absorbing this, before slowly asking, 'Why did he do that?'  
  
Scott explained the argument that had taken place, sinking lower and lower into his chair as he spoke. 'He felt that I didn't trust him, and he told me so,' he finished.  
  
'Gordon just went off on one,' Virgil said, adding to the conversation. 'I can't remember ever seeing him rant like he did today.'  
  
'The worst part is, what he said was true,' Scott said, shocking the members of the room as he admitted this. 'Gordon's been irrational lately, and he can be a hothead at the best of times. I wanted everything to run smoothly today, and I hate to admit it, but a part of me didn't trust Gordon enough to let him get on with his job without me monitoring him. That's not the whole story, though.'  
  
'What else?' Jeff asked, wondering how much more there could possibly be. His seemingly eternal day had so far consisted of one missing son, one injured in a rock shower, and a third now admitting that he did not trust his brother.  
  
'It'll sound crazy, but I have to tell you anyway. I've been having dreams lately, dreams that come true. I first dreamt that Grandma won her sewing machine, and woke up to find it had actually happened, and then I dreamt that Alan had the flu, which is partly how I knew to go straight to his room when I woke up. Then the dreams stopped for a few days until last night, when,' he paused, daring himself to say it, 'I dreamt that Gordon fell into some kind of huge hole during a rescue. That's why I've been acting strangely today, because I've been so worried.'  
  
Those in the room took a moment to grasp hat Scott had said before Jeff spoke, 'Now things are beginning to fall into place.'  
  
~~  
  
John awoke from his light doze, facing the window framing the golden sun disappearing over the murky grey horizon. For a moment, he did not know where he was, or why he felt so miserable or so drained, but then the events of the afternoon came flooding back to him, washing away those brief moments of blissful ignorance.  
  
He tried to remember back to the conversation that had taken place between himself and Gordon directly before he had lost contact with his brother. He had established that an argument had taken place between Gordon and Scott, due to the eldest brother not trusting Gordon. And then he, Gordon, had admitted to being irritable, and before John could get an answer as to why, he was gone.  
  
No, wait, there was something Gordon had said, he had uttered one thing, seven little words, before the communications had died.  
  
'I got a letter the other day.'  
  
John knew that mail had arrived the previous day, but if Gordon had meant then, he would have said 'yesterday.' Before that, there was the delivery that included his Grandma's sewing machine. John knew that the letter could hold valuable answers, so he made no hesitation in jumping off of the crumpled quilt on his bed and going directly to Gordon's room, in search of answers.  
  
~~  
  
'Tin-Tin, could you go and wake up John, please? He needs to fill us in on what was said before the accident,' Jeff said, deciding that he had had enough time to rest and reflect.  
  
'Yes, Mr Tracy,' Tin-Tin said, leaving her chair and heading to John's room, which was at the furthest end of the corridor. It was not long before she came to it, letting the door slide back before stepping inside. To her surprise, she found that John was nowhere to be found.  
  
She headed back to the lounge, this time at a quicker pace, asking 'Mr Tracy, is he in here?' as she entered.  
  
'He's not in his room?'  
  
'No, Mr Tracy,' she said, now concerned for the fair-headed boy, 'would you like for me to search for him?'  
  
'No, don't worry, I'll look,' Jeff said, getting up from his chair. 'The rest of you can go to bed,' he added, looking and seeing that it was well past two in the morning.  
  
~~  
  
John soon found the letter he was looking for, in the desk drawer amongst the rest of Gordon's general clutter. He paused for a moment, contemplating as to whether this was the right thing to do, but he assured himself that Gordon would have told him anyway, plus he needed answers, so he proceeded to carefully open the envelope and unfold the letter.  
  
'Dear Gordon,' the letter began.  
  
'We are writing to inform you of the passing of our beloved daughter, Carly, in a car accident last week. I know that although you both went your separate ways a few years ago, we know you were both great friends for a number of years and so we invite you to attend her funeral on 21st May, at St Peter's Chapel, Boston (see enclosed map.) Yours sincerely, Dan and Sarah Reid.'  
  
Now it all made sense to John, the reason why Gordon had not been himself since receiving the letter. John remembered Carly Reid well, as she was one of Gordon's closest friends from the age of eight, and spent quite a bit of time at the Tracy house. There were many firsts related to Carly, many of which only John knew about, including the first date, first kiss, and more. The two were so close that Gordon had intended to propose to Carly, once he had finished his time in WASP, but the two had not seen each other since Gordon's hydrofoil accident. And then, when International Rescue commenced, Gordon knew that the chance had gone.  
  
John snapped his head up, suddenly aware of a presence in the room, and saw his father standing in the doorway.  
  
'Dad,' John said, standing up from where he had been crouching on the floor, 'I found this in Gordon's drawer, when I remembered he told me something was up, and this explains what.'  
  
Jeff took and read the brief letter, and sighed gravely once he had finished. 'Those two were close,' he said, letting on that he knew more about their relationship than he had been told. 'So this is why Gordon's been acting unusually, and,' he paused, 'I think this is the reason he made that rash decision to break the door down on that rescue.'  
  
John told his father that he could see why Gordon was generally out of sorts, but not why he would specifically break down a door.  
  
'It is a known way to react to the death of someone. Although usually, the person would avoid danger at all costs, for fear that they too will die, Gordon has done the opposite, as he is living like there is no tomorrow and so is taking foolish risks. I just pray to God that he'll have seen sense by now, and will have kept his head, wherever he is.'  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	11. Escape

Chapter Eleven: Escape  
  
~~  
  
Gordon was dismayed to hear a bolt unlocking before seeing the heavy wooden door squeal open, allowing him his first look at his captors. The first, the older-looking of the two, had a tall, muscular frame, with the tough, worn arms of a workman. The second was shorter and slightly thinner, but possessed the same tanned skin and scraggly brown hair as his accomplice. Both also had deep, dark eyes, like never-ending pools of chocolate, leading Gordon to guess that the two were related.  
  
The larger and more dominating of the two walked up to him and began to babble in Italian, Gordon guessed from the frequent use of the letter 'o' in words. Looking blank for a moment, Gordon replied in the only foreign language he knew, saying though the mask, 'Je ne comprende pas.' Unfortunately, this was the only phrase he remembered from the bygone days of tedious French lessons with Madame Mielle.  
  
The man looked at Gordon strangely for a moment, and then realised the problem, 'Ah, you American, you speak no Italian, ya?'  
  
'I speak no Italian,' Gordon said, still muffled through the gag.  
  
The man lowered the cloth, allowing Gordon to now speak clearly. 'You from International Rescue,' he said, saying the name of the organisation slowly to pronounce it properly. Gordon nodded, wondering what it was leading up to. 'Your boss pay big money to get you back,' he said, causing Gordon to wonder whether it was a statement or a question. Whatever way, he now knew for sure that he was being held for ransom.  
  
'You answer me?' The man said threateningly, his short temper becoming ever shorter, and Gordon knew that it was a question.  
  
'He probably would, but that doesn't mean I'll let him,' Gordon said defiantly.  
  
'Leo, di che cosa sta parlando?' Giovanni said, asking what Gordon meant.  
  
'Silenzio, Giovanni,' Leo snapped, sparing a glance for his brother.  
  
Gordon was glad that the two kidnappers had used their names to talk to each other, as although it did not help his situation in anyway, it gave him a strange feeling of slight stability.  
  
All feeling of stability was gone when Leo lifted Gordon up by the scruff of the neck, so that the two were at eye level, with barely a hairs breadth between their noses. 'Listen, American, I want the money, and I get what I want.' He threw Gordon, still attached the chair, angrily to the stone- cold floor, causing him to land with a crack as one of the legs of the old chair snapped. Gordon landed on the arm that was still sore from a few days ago, causing him yelp as he made contact. He shook his head to clear his vision and opened his eyes to see the two men leaving the room, Leo slamming the door behind him. 'Not if I can help it,' Gordon sneered, anger generated from the pain in his arm.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Alan was sitting alone in Thunderbird Five, wondering what to do with himself to keep his mind occupied and his thoughts away from Gordon and what could be happening to him. The time on Tracy Island was just after two in the afternoon, meaning that his brother had been missing for over a day. Apart from communicating with Italian police, to see if they had found anything, nothing so far had been done, and it was driving everyone, including Alan, up the wall.  
  
'I wish I knew where he was,' Alan said to himself in a murmur, failing to distract himself.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted when a beeping emitted from the control panel to his left. Of all the times to get an emergency call, Alan thought to himself as he said in a forced voice, 'This is International Rescue receiving your call, what's your emergency?'  
  
'International Rescue, there is a man who needs your help. He has, erm, hair of copper, and I think you know him well,' the man snarled into the radio.  
  
It took Alan two beats to realize what the man was talking about, and half that time to work out what to do. 'You've kidnapped my bro... buddy!' He said angrily as he flicked the switches to activate the new equipment that Brains had recently installed.  
  
'He is quick, as they say,' the man said, chuckling with little humour at his attempt at the joke.  
  
'What do you want?' Alan said, preparing to contact his father to allow him to listen to the conversation. He put through the call, making sure that no sound would come through to Thunderbird Five.  
  
'First, I want to speak to your boss,' the Italian man said to him, heading straight for the top to make the arrangements.  
  
Alan grimaced, wishing he could have kept the conversation going for longer. 'Give me a minute to contact him,' he said, muting the sounds travelling through to the kidnapper and answering his father.  
  
'What was that, son?' Jeff asked, only hearing about the request to speak to the director of the organisation.  
  
'Dad, there's a guy on the line who wants to talk to you,' Alan said, before adding in a dramatic voice, 'he's got Gordon.'  
  
Several members of the room gasped, but Jeff didn't so much as flinch. He had suspected kidnapping as one of the two causes for Gordon's disappearance, (the other being amnesia,) and so was somewhat ready for whatever was about to be thrown at him.  
  
'All right, son, put him through,' Jeff said, looking at those in the room before adding, 'I'll do the talking here.'  
  
'Good day to you, sir,' the man greeted in his strong Italian accent.  
  
'Good would not be used to describe my day, but thank you so much anyway,' Jeff said sarcastically. 'I understand you are currently looking after a member of our organisation.'  
  
'You understand well,' Leo said, preparing to rattle off his speech, which he had learnt in English for the benefit of those he wished to negotiate with. 'I have some more things I wish for you to understand. Your friend will be returned to you in good health once I receive from you fifty thousand of your US dollars. You have twenty-four hours to deliver the money. I expect the money to be placed by the headstone reading Alfonso Pacelli, next to the large, how you say, albero della betulla.'  
  
'Birch tree,' Alan filled in helpfully, his knowledge of the Italian language coming in useful at this time.  
  
'Si, grazie, the birch tree in St Maria Church, by tomorrow, seven in evening, Italian time. You understand?'  
  
'Perfetto,' Jeff replied.  
  
'Quello è buono,' Leo said before ending the call.  
  
'Dad, I got a fix on it. They were at grid reference 498J,769H,' Alan said, reading off the co-ordinates.  
  
'Well done, son,' Jeff said, wondering what to do next. He, naturally, was going to send someone to where the call was traced, but the question was who. Would he risk sending all three of the boys, or risk the inevitable argument if sending just one? A decision had to be made soon, as time was of the essence; each second was another second of danger for Gordon.  
  
'All right Virgil, launch Thunderbird Two, take Pod Two, and take Scott and John with you,' Jeff commanded.  
  
'Father, Thunderbird One is far faster,' Scott said in objection.  
  
'And Thunderbird Two has a better equipped sickbay,' Jeff said back.  
  
Scott saw his point, realising that until they found Gordon, they would not know the extent of his injuries, if he had any. He merely nodded, tight- lipped, and joined John as he made his way towards the passenger elevator, which disappeared into the deep steel caverns below the island.  
  
~~  
  
After Leo cut the transmission, he turned to his brother and said, 'All right, get him and give him a knock on the head, just enough to knock him out, okay?'  
  
Giovanni looked confused as he asked his brother, 'Why knock him out?'  
  
'International Rescue has the equipment to detect where the call came from, and they'll probably come looking, but if he take him somewhere else, we'll be one step ahead of them, you see?'  
  
'No, I don't see,' Giovanni said crossly, exasperated at never being able to keep up with his brother's plans. 'I thought we were looking after him, that's what you said, so why would we run away from him?'  
  
'Idiot! We aren't caring for him, we're holding him for ransom!'  
  
'Leonardo! Of all the things you've dragged me into since I could walk, of all the schemes, this is by far the worst, and I am going to do something I should have done long ago, and have nothing more to do with it!' He began to walk towards the door when he heard a sharp click behind him.  
  
'You will do exactly as I say,' Leo sneered, the gun safely in his hand.  
  
Giovanni nodded mutely, and walked towards the room where Gordon was being held captive. Leo, thinking he had done enough to persuade his spineless brother to stay with him, put the gun into his jacket pocket and began to load the radio into the waiting car outside.  
  
Giovanni, though, had other ideas.  
  
He rushed into the room with Gordon in it, his chair still laying sideways on the floor, and untied him, explaining in broken English, 'Hurry, or my brother kill us. Follow me.'  
  
Gordon staggered slightly as he got up, still unsettled from the bump on his head. He followed Giovanni, who led him through the cellar door and outside into the cool Italian night. Gordon half wished he still had his heat-proof suit, which had apparently disappeared in between the time of the crash and his waking up in the basement, as although it was bulky it would have been considerably warmer.  
  
'Now,' Giovanni said, heading over to the car as Leo returned inside the house. The engine was already running, saving vital seconds, so all the two had to do was clamber into the tinny car and go. Giovanni, the driver, looked in his rear view mirror as he sped down the dusty path, and saw his brother run out of the house and shout obscenities.  
  
'Riduca!' Giovanni shouted, lowered his head as far as he could whilst still driving. Gordon, not understanding what was said, used his intuition and followed suit as bullets flew and ricocheted off the car. One caught the back windscreen and shattered it to a thousand pieces before the car turned a corner and escaped from the line of fire.  
  
'That was close,' Gordon said, breathing a sigh of relief as he shifted and sat up in his seat.  
  
'We are not yet safe,' Giovanni said, concentrating on the road. 'There is a, erm, motor bicycle behind the house.'  
  
Gordon gulped, wondering when the escapade would end.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	12. Great Balls Of Fire

Chapter Twelve: Great Balls Of Fire  
  
~~  
  
Leo was seconds away from grabbing the motorbike and chasing after the two escapees when he remembered that there would most probably be someone from International Rescue coming to look for their companion, having traced the call.  
  
The Italian man weighed up the options before deciding what to do. He knew that he would probably catch Giovanni and the other man if he followed them now, but he also knew that he would have the advantage of surprise if others arrived. He chose to stay, deciding that his brother would not stand a chance by himself.  
  
~~  
  
'This is it,' Scott said, observing the site from the window of the aircraft. He could only partially make out the derelict building in the dark, but he could see enough to tell that it was not the most inviting place to live in.  
  
Virgil took his craft down with a roar in a cornfield about two hundred yards away from the hut, wishing at times like then that the engine was quieter.  
  
'All right, we've got surprise on our side,' Scott said in a whisper as they crept though a path made by tractor wheels in the field. 'Virgil, you come in with me, and John, you check outside.'  
  
Armed and ready, Scott and Virgil crept into the house and began to investigate. They found themselves in the dark main room, with the bare furnishings of a tatty wooden table and two matching benches, with a single candle in the centre of it.  
  
'Virgil, get the door,' Scott said, his eyes dancing around the room in search of any signs of movement.  
  
As Virgil turned around, the door slammed shut, revealing Leo standing, gun poised, with a wicked gleam in his eyes and the grin of a madman plastered across his face.  
  
Virgil's gun was raised, but it was no good firing it at a man whose index finger was hovering above the trigger of his own gun. Scott looked back to see what was going on, and instantly moved towards Virgil. 'Don't move, or bang,' Leo warned, taking two steps forward and moving dangerously close to Virgil.  
  
'What makes you think you can call the shots,' Scott said, malevolence evident within his voice.  
  
'Boss us around, he means,' Virgil said helpfully, seeing Leo's confused face.  
  
'Yeah, you're outnumbered,' Scott said.  
  
'Ah, that may be, but I know where your friend is,' Leo lied.  
  
John's hand lingered above the door handle as he heard the unfamiliar voice say this, and he instantly knew that his brothers had a problem. A plan formed in his head, and he quickly put it into action. Slowly and quietly, he opened the door and found that, to his immense relief, the kidnapper's back was facing him. He ignored the widening eyes of his brothers and continued with his plan. He raised the gun, took aim and fired, watching as Leo jerked back before crashing to the floor.  
  
Knowing how little time he had, John kicked the man's pistol away and said, 'Find a rope, he won't be out for more than a minute.'  
  
Virgil found two ropes down in the basement, and helped his brothers to tie up the man. 'Great save, John,' Scott said in his way of expressing his gratitude as he tightened the last knot around the man's hands.  
  
The Italian soon woke up, finding his hands and feet bound together. Looking up at the three forceful faces surrounding him, he knew he was no longer in the position to 'call the shots,' as the one with the darkest hair had put it earlier.  
  
'Where is he?' Scott said forebodingly.  
  
Knowing that it would be pointless to deny what he had done, Leo said, 'With my brother; they left in a car about fifteen minutes before now.'  
  
'Where did they go, and why aren't you with them?'  
  
'I truthfully do not know, to both questions,' he said, shrugging. Well, he honestly did not know where they had gone, but he suspected to Milan, the nearest city, and he knew that he was not with them because he had been left behind, and had waited for the other three to arrive.  
  
Virgil turned to Scott, after realising something, and said, 'What if that other guy's armed too?'  
  
'We'll cross that bridge when we come to it,' Scott said, hoping and praying that they would not come to that particular bridge, because crossing could be treacherous.  
  
~~  
  
'I don't think he's following us,' Gordon said with confidence, glancing to the back of the car where glass once was. The draft rushing through did not make Gordon feel any warmer.  
  
'I go a little longer,' Giovanni said, his eyes fixed on the road lit by the dim headlights of the car.  
  
'Whilst we're not saying much, do you think you could tell me how I got into this?' Gordon asked, having spent some time wondering this whilst confined in the basement.  
  
Giovanni remained silent for a moment as he tried to comprehend what Gordon had said. 'Yes, I tell you. My brother and I, we do not have a good life. We live with our mama and brother, Alfonso. Alfonso older than us and he steal to live. He die in car one year before now, and mama sad, and sick. Leo and I learn to steal to live, like Alfonso. We in café to steal, but the bomb. We wake up, but the fire trap us. Big car put out fire, but fall into hole. You in big car. Leo say we look after you, and get money, but he call your friends and say you for ransom. I try to stop him, but he have a gun. He say for me to hit you, make you knocked out, but we go!' Giovanni said in his attempted English.  
  
'I understand,' Gordon said, realising that it was all an accident. Him being kidnapped was all an accident, just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If he and John hadn't have been talking, he would have been concentrating fully and would have seen the crack in the floor. But, he wouldn't have been talking to John if he and Scott hadn't have argued before. He wouldn't have been driving the Firefly if Virgil's arm weren't damaged, which wouldn't have happened if Scott had dived on him instead of Gordon. Gordon wouldn't even have been on the rescue if Alan hadn't have got the flu, which Alan may not have got if he, Gordon, had have spotted that child first, but instead he was dazed from having broken down the door. He wouldn't have done that, or snapped at Alan that morning, or even become angry at Scott before the accident if he hadn't have been acting irrationally, which wouldn't have happened if he had not received that letter about Carly's death.  
  
Gordon startled himself at what had contributed to him being where he was at that moment. Some of them were irrelevant, but the events, the circumstances, had built up, and there he was, being driven down an unknown Italian road by a stranger, who was one of his former kidnappers. Surely, he had to be dreaming.  
  
'Hey, Giovanni, don't worry,' Gordon said, suddenly realising that the young man was driving increasingly fast, as he grew increasingly tense. 'Leo won't catch us now, we're too long gone, so you can take it slower now.'  
  
Giovanni slowed slightly, saying 'Ten miles from Milan, we are there soon.'  
  
'That's good,' Gordon said, exhaustion coming out of nowhere and overpowering him. His eyelids fell shut, and remained so for a few seconds until he heard the screeching and squealing of brakes and tyres. Before Gordon knew what hit him, the car struck a tree and came to a crushing halt. Gordon had no time to react as his head smacked on the dashboard and he passed out.  
  
~~  
  
'John, its impossible,' Scott said, trying to reason with his brother. 'Wait a couple of hours until sun up and then we'll find him, you know it's no good looking in the dark.'  
  
'They could be anywhere in a couple of hours,' John said in protest. 'Besides, we'll be okay looking with Thunderbird Two's Thermo-Sensor.'  
  
'What do you think, Virgil?'  
  
'John has a point,' Virgil said after a moment, never one to take sides without a good reason. 'They could be in any number of places in two hours, but at least we've got a vague path to follow after twenty minutes of travelling.'  
  
'All right, we'll keep going,' Scott said, sighing and sitting back down on his seat.  
  
'What's the deal, Scott, don't you want us to find him?' John said heatedly, baffled at his brother's reluctance to carry on.  
  
'Of course I do! I just thought that there would be a better, more efficient way of doing it,' Scott retorted, offended that his brother would even consider him a quitter, especially when his brother's well-being was in jeopardy.  
  
'If you can think of one that's on board Thunderbird Two, I'm listening,' Virgil said in a slightly tetchy tone. 'We certainly can't go back to Base, it would lose us too much time.'  
  
'What does the Thermo-Sensor say?' Scott asked, changing the subject and avoiding the argument that seemed to be building.  
  
'So far, I've only picked up signals the size of animals, there's nothing large enough to be a human yet,' Virgil said, his eyes still glued to the monitor.  
  
'Hey, what's that?' Scott said, pointing out of the window as he spotted something of an orange-yellow colour in the distance.  
  
Virgil steered his aircraft in the direction that Scott was facing, and neared the object quickly. 'It's a fire, on what looks like a vehicle,' Virgil said, his voice weakening towards the end of his sentence.  
  
'All right, John, you handle the fire extinguishers, and Virgil, join him once you've landed. I'll get the fireproof gear,' Scott said, instantly ready to act.  
  
Virgil landed as close to the fire as he could, and the action began. John grabbed the powerful extinguishers and started to put the fire out, with Virgil quickly joining him. Scott rushed in, dressed in a fireproof suit, and began went to the driver of the car first, as this was where the fire was worst. He wrapped Giovanni in one of the fireproof blankets and carried him from the car before laying him on the ground.  
  
'Check him,' Scott called to Virgil as he headed back to the car. He opened the door, which took some effort since it was partially crushed, and then began to pull his brother from the wreck. As Scott lifted him, Gordon began to cough uncontrollably. 'It's okay, Gordo,' Scott said, gently laying him near Giovanni. He checked and found that Gordon was breathing and his pulse was strong.  
  
'How is he?' John asked, rushing over after successfully tackling the fire.  
  
'He's going to be fine,' Scott said, placing a reassuring hand on John's shoulder.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	13. Home Safe

Chapter Thirteen: Home Safe  
  
~~  
  
'All right, so let me get this straight, you dreamt all that stuff, and then it happened,' Gordon said, still not being able to believe what he had been told.  
  
'That's right,' Virgil confirmed, 'Scott had previews of Grandma's sewing machine, Alan's flu, and your trip into a hole in his sleep.'  
  
'That explains a lot,' Gordon said, remembering in particular the night he had been woken up by Scott. The four brothers were sitting in Gordon's room whilst he was in bed, meant to be recuperating after his ordeal. He had suffered whiplash from the car accident, as well as smoke inhalation, and his father had insisted that he stay in bed for at least a couple of days.  
  
'At least Giovanni was okay,' he said, 'poor kid was just being led on by his brother, but at least now he's free to make a fresh start.'  
  
'Gordon, I'd just like to say I'm really sorry I yelled at you,' Scott said for what seemed to be the hundredth time since his brother had regained consciousness.  
  
'If you say you're sorry one more time, I'll give you a real reason to be sorry,' Gordon said in a comically threatening voice.  
  
'Sorry...' Scott said, before clapping his hand over his mouth, causing his brothers to erupt into laughter.  
  
Jeff appeared in the doorway as the mirth died down. 'All right, boys, leave him to get some rest now,' he said, ever thankful that he was given the chance to see those wicked eyes and cheeky smile once again.  
  
The boys began to leave, but after a quick word from his father, John remained behind. 'Dad has something for you,' he said, presenting Gordon with an envelope.  
  
'Tsk, he's been my Dad for twenty years and he still gets my birthday wrong,' Gordon joked as he opened the envelope. Inside was a piece of paper with arrangement to stay at a hotel in Boston for the night of 21st May, in a week's time. The date cut Gordon like a knife.  
  
'What's this for?' Gordon said hoarsely, his throat suddenly dry.  
  
'Only Dad and I know about this, by the way,' John said. 'I remember that you told me you had a problem, and the last thing you said as that you got a letter, so I found it.'  
  
'Sherlock Tracy, it seems,' Gordon said distractedly.  
  
'Only when I'm given a clue,' John said, 'why didn't you say anything, Squirt?'  
  
'I was going to tell you, when you came down from the Space Station,' Gordon said, 'But until then, I tried not to let it get to me, I mean, I haven't seen her for years. But it did.'  
  
'I'd be worried if it didn't bother you. You've got all those memories of the years before you grew apart,' John said, squeezing Gordon's shoulder, 'You don't have to go if...'  
  
'I'll go,' Gordon interrupted, 'She was a great friend, and I owe her that much.'  
  
John nodded, and got up from the side of the bed that he had perched on, saying, 'I'll leave you to rest,' he said, heading for the door.  
  
'Thanks, John,' Gordon said, glad to know that he could tell his brother anything.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Scott was laying on the beach, the golden sun beaming down on him and the splashing of the sea in the background, in his pale-blue shorts and reflecting sunglasses. This is the life, he thought to himself, as he sighed in contentment.  
  
He felt himself grow cooler as something blocked the sun. He opened his eyes to find a young woman of five-feet-nine standing over him, with irises of the ocean, and wavy hair the colour of the evening sun. She was dressed in an aqua-coloured string bikini, revealing well-tanned legs that seemed to go on forever.  
  
'Excuse me,' she said in a voice as smooth as the surface of a mirror, 'could you tell me where they would sell drinks?'  
  
'I'll do better than that, let me buy you one,' Scott said, getting up and escorting her to the nearby bar. They were sipping tropical drinks and making conversation when an alarm sounded.  
  
'Oh, don't worry about that,' Scott said, looking up, as chaos reigned in the bar around them.  
  
~~  
  
The klaxon signalling an emergency sounded, abruptly drawing Scott from his sleep. As he ambled down the hallway he mumbled, 'Please come true... Please come true...'  
  
~~  
  
The End  
  
~~  
  
A/N: I'm not much on endings, as you've probably gathered from this, but I'm learning. Thanks to everyone who reviewed this, all feedback is appreciated. Have fun, everyone! 


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